


Ashes and Soot

by La_Flauta02



Series: Ashes and Soot [1]
Category: The Nightmare Before Christmas (1993)
Genre: Curse Breaking, Death, Demonic Possession, Halloween, Multi, Vampirism, Witchcraft, lycanthropy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-26
Updated: 2019-10-26
Packaged: 2021-01-03 20:41:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21185672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/La_Flauta02/pseuds/La_Flauta02
Summary: The new year has arrived. After the loss of her aunt, Joan Harrison only has her cousin Leslie left in the family. However, thanks the help of an amicable and charming UNDEAD  couple, the two witches discover that their mothers knew far more than they were told.





	Ashes and Soot

_ Wait! Come look at this. _

_ … What? That’s impossible— _

_ How is she still alive? _

_ Is there anything we can do to help her? _

* * *

I took another bite out of my sandwich, tuning out my erratic cousin’s part-valley part-normal tone of voice. I loved my cousin, my family (what little was left of it), but there always came the days when I wanted to be left alone. She just had to deny me that privilege.

Cousin Leslie chatted away with Gemini, or “Gem” for short. Their relationship was at that awkward stage of “more than friends but less than a couple.” She was expressing her disgust for the US president’s “completely inconsiderate behavior” towards the Japanese prime minister overseas. Thank god for the fourth person sitting at our Conrado-Harrison table: Jamaica Nel.

She and I were best friends since the first grade. We could practically read each other’s minds. Neither of us were into the topic Leslie just had to bring up. Lucky for us, Jamaica and I had nearly finished our lunch.

The topic of the afternoon pricked at our nerves. Save for Gem, who was a walking encyclopedia. Jamaica motioned for me to come with her. We washed rinsed our dishes, put them away, walked towards the stairs.

“Uh, what’s going on here?” Leslie asked curious and annoyed.

“Gonna go over each other’s work schedules,” Jamaica assured her.

“Couldn’t you do that here?” Gem asked trying to make sense of her answer. “You know, with us?”

“We’ll be right back.”

Leslie waved them off and continued running her lips a mile a minute, trading off her skill with Gem. “I swear, they’re becoming more secretive every day.”

There never was a work schedule comparison. Jamaica could always tell when I needed a break from the blabbermouth that was my cousin. Together we sat and stared out the one-person narrow window in our shared room. We were closer than sisters; sharing came naturally to us. Leslie needed her room; we took my Aunt Josephine and Uncle Ciro’s room.

“You okay?” Jamaica began.

I shrugged. “Yeah …”

“Did you enjoy your birthday last week?”

“Yeah.” I perked up. “Yeah, I did. I wanted to go see ‘A Home of Our Own’ with you guys, and we finally did.”

She smiled. “You’re a big Kathy Bates fan.”

I giggled. She wasn’t wrong. “That was a good movie.”

“Made me cry—”

“Right? Me too!”

We stared out the window after sharing a laugh. I loved the rain—sprinkling or pounding. However, I especially loved the petrichor and the sun on the day _ after _ the rain. Everything cleaned and rinsed, it was beautiful.

Everything outside.

How long would it take? To clean my own slate and start over? To move on? It hasn’t even been very long. Or it hasn’t been long enough yet. Still… 

“Hey, how are you…?” Jamaica’s voice rang out in the walls of my mind.

A moment of silence.

She didn’t finish. She didn’t have to—we both knew exactly how I was feeling. I assumed Leslie felt the same way; except she recovered faster than me. For stupid little things like that, I was envious of her.

“…It’s been two months…” My face burned as I said that. I thought I cried all my tears out. Guess not. “ … We didn’t even get to pass out candy with her.” Down they poured.

We lost my Aunt Josie, my mom’s sister, a few months ago. Pneumonia. It was just Leslie and me now. We both lost our entire immediate families. We were the only family we had left.

Fall is the other pollen season, not just Spring. One of the harshest things we witches learn from an early age: every season has its extremities. Nobody—witch, werewolf, or vampire—was immune.

If it wasn’t for Gem and Jamaica—and her mom—Leslie and I would have spiraled downward into debt, homelessness, and unemployment.

In my grieving moment, Jamaica had fetched the Kleenex and her trash can from her dresser. I took … three? … And used them all up.

“Do you think they’d be proud of me?”

She furrowed her eyebrows concerned. “Linda and Josie?”

I nodded. “Nicky and Carter, too.”

Jamaica’s expression softened. “Yeah. I think they would. You graduated from the JC, you have a job, a roof over your head, you’re one _ hell _ of a witch. You and Les stayed together—I think they’d want that.”

Always real, but positively. She leaned forward and hugged me. I hugged her back and cried harder into her shoulder.

* * *

_ She made us swear not to tell the children a thing! _

_ Yes, but she’s not around anymore; she’s not even “ _ here” _ here. _

_ Sa—wait. What? _

_ Neither her ghost nor body arrived here on her death day, or after the funeral in November, which means… _

_ Upwards … Are we really out of options, Sal? _

_ We have to tell them, Jack. It’s the only way. _


End file.
